Holding On
by Kabnondra
Summary: Who the girl with the long dark hair truly is... some gore, angst, situation of death, love, hatred


She walks toward the casket, waiting her turn in line. No visible expression lies on her face, and there's no sign that she will crack anytime soon. The doctors were surprised to find that she wasn't affected, seeing as even her father had suffered a mental breakdown. The rumors of why the girl did not cry were spreading, and had now enveloped the people. Everyone stared at the girl and only did not whisper out of respect for the boy they had come to lay to rest.

But the girl held her head high, and some could have sworn they saw a smile playing on her lips. The girl walked forward, her turn to see the boy finally come. As she bent down, cascades of dark hair covered her face, and she whispered in the dead boy's ear, "I'll wait for you, hell and beyond." She smiled broadly now, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She patted the boy's cheek playfully, and ran her hands through that messy hair of his.

The other mourners were now becoming worried, as they saw her hand reach into the open coffin. They all stared at the girl, waiting to see what would happen next. When she raised her head and started to laugh, laugh in ways she hadn't in so long, they cringed to see another go mad. Two burly security men picked her up and she obeyed, letting them carry her away, never stopping to look back at the boy.

The bobbed young woman peeks through the door, concerned. Over the past three years, she had seen her closest friend go through so many changes. First that stupid, cocky crush of hers had decided to go disappear, and she had feared for her friend's sanity. Then that little replica had appeared, and things were going steady, the girl never having tantrums or fits she had so often had when she was younger. The boy may have never seen them, never heard of them, but she knew what had happened. Over every little dilemma, small problem, the girl would crack over the blond, tear things, scream at her, name threats so creative even a serial killer would be proud. And so when this stopped, when the little boy came, she had though this was a relief, a change, that she was moving forward.

But then this, this blemish came forth again, telling her to wait for him, that he would never hurt her. And she believed him. Every single lie he told her, she ate it all up. And then her fits started again. But these weren't the fits the bobbed girl was used to, what she could deal with. This was a game, a cruel game meant for torture, of how the final stick breaks the camel's back. She would sit in the room, staring so hard in the thin air one would be tempted to follow her gaze, into that world of the unknown, of delusions. But then the talking would start. She would whisper softly, slowly getting louder and louder, but would never move an inch. She would scream at the top of her lungs, yelling profanities a girl like her shouldn't know. But then it was so disturbing, to watch her yelling and yelling and screaming and finding yourself looking at her and see her…

Sitting. Not moving anything except for her mouth, looking completely at peace. And then finding yourself thinking how pleasant it would be, to do the same…

And then as the blonde continues her musings with a look of pity on her face, the dark haired girl looks up. She smiles and waves, happy to see the distressed girl. She beckons her in, as if it were her own home. And when she walks in, she puts a knife to the girl's thin throat, and smiles ever so politely, as if situations like this occurred every day. And she repeats over and over again, "I'll wait for you, hell and beyond. I'll wait, and wait and wait and wait, until hell and beyond…"

Her grip loosens, and the blond girl sighs, used to her antics. But then the girl stops and starts to cry. To cry sincerely, the kind she never could before. Her violet eyes bare into the girl's wavering green ones, never looking away.

"If only that stupid boy had never intervened in my little organization. Then he wouldn't have had to be killed."

The blond stares, only just starting to understand what the dark haired girl means. The girl shrugs her shoulders and continues.

"Such a pity too, him being so cute and all. But as they say, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Oh, and now I'm gonna have to kill you too! Well, it was nice to know you."

And that's the last thing the blond remembers before she goes unconscious, the knife firmly lodged in the middle of her forehead.

The tall figure smiles, closing the blonde's eyes and straightening out the tangles in her damp hair, now matted with blood. She skips down the hallway, humming a happy tune. She explores the rooms as if she were a child, checking every one. And then she finds it, the room she's been looking for all along.

She picks up a small handgun, dropping the bullets one by one down the revolver. She clicks the safety off, puts it to her heart and smiles. "I told you I would wait for you, hell and beyon…"

Her limp body clatters to the floor along with the gun. The room silent.


End file.
